


The Curse of the Protector

by acs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, St Trinian's (2007 2009)
Genre: Bellatrix doesn't like children, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Lost Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2020-08-19 06:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20205223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acs/pseuds/acs
Summary: Voldemort's attack on Godric's Hollow goes very wrong, sending his loyal minion Bellatrix Lestrange and a screaming baby Potter to a land far away.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is a derivative work using characters and intellectual property belonging to J.K. Rowling, and her publishers and probably others.  
**When/Spoilers:** Pre HP books.  
**Canon Warnings:** Seriously AU. I'm not remotely kidding. Don't like a female Harry Potter analog or a Harry very unlikely to go to Hogwarts? And eventual femslash? Then this isn't for you.  
**Posting Frequency:** Not very often.

There was pain in her head, and screaming, so loud it hurt her ears. Crouched down, Bellatrix struggled to cover her ears against the noise, but it didn’t help. The screaming continued. And she couldn’t breath against the weight. 

Sobbing, she struggled to pull in enough air, dimly becoming aware that the screaming had finally stopped. It was worse than the last time her Master had punished her with the Cruciatus curse. Not just every nerve in her body burned but her head felt like it was on fire and there was a big gaping burning hole right behind her eyes where something was missing. 

Even she, the most powerful of his lieutenants, couldn’t easily recover from that curse when he used it. The pain could linger for days. But this was worse. Much worse. She pushed against it, pulling herself upright, using the tree she’d fallen against as support. 

Through blurry, aching eyes, she stared towards the empty space her Master had entered. He’d gone to deal with the Potter brat by himself, after dismissing the rat, leaving her with strict instructions to find the other brat the prophecy spoke of. 

She knew he’d punish her for disobeying him, but she would do the job she’d sworn to do as his loyal follower and keep Dumbledore’s pests away. The other brat could wait a few hours. 

The light from the moon washed over the space, briefly revealing a small cottage before it disappeared again. She dimly remembered studying the Fidelius years ago and knew that only something more powerful than her Master could cause it to waver like that. Something had happened and she needed to get to her Master’s side to aid him. 

Cautiously, she approached where she thought the cottage would be. Where her Master had entered and disappeared. When the cottage briefly flickered into sight again she stepped forward into it. She could feel it fighting against her, pulling at her aching head, but she pushed forward and through the weakened charm. 

The door hung open, hanging by a single hinge. Her Master had obviously blasted it open. Stepping into the cottage, Bellatrix looked around, her wand raised. She quickly performed a Locus charm to find any living creature in the place. She wasn’t surprised to find it revealed nothing. Her Master must have already gone back to the mansion after dealing with the blood traitors. The Dark Mark floated high in the air as a sign he’d been there. 

But she was curious. What had he done to the Potters? Just killing them would be so disappointing. She needed to know that they’d suffered for defying him. Needed to see. She stepped further into the cottage. 

Down a short hallway was a stairway leading up. At the base of the stair was a hunched over form. 

Approaching it, she pushed it over with a kick. Once it came to rest, staring up at her blindly was the pale, empty eyed face of Potter, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. There was no sign of injury but he was clearly dead. Her Master had obviously not considered him worthy of a more painful death. Nodding to herself in mild satisfaction, she stepped over him, with a crunch of glass, and onto the first step. 

She took the stairs carefully, scanning for traps as she went. She could faintly feel the dark 'flavor' of her Master’s magic ahead. He’s performed something more intricate than his favorite curse. Whatever he’d done before he’d left was still staining the magic of the floor above. 

A long hallway stretched forward from the upper landing. Three of the four doors she could see were closed. A red glow emanated from the fourth opening at the end of the hallway. As she passed each door, she blasted it open, the doors turning to sharp slivers, flying with enough force into the rooms to be lethal to any occupants, if they’d managed to hide themselves from her earlier search. But each room was empty, though obviously in use by someone. 

She reached the final door. A crackling red shield blocked her way. She waved her wand, attempting to determine what it was. Unfamiliar runes floated in front of her. The Blacks had been noted Rune Masters in the past, but she’d never bothered learning more than the basics. She wondered what her Master had done, what message he was leaving for Dumbledore, and those who would defy him. 

She tried to look past the shield, getting as close as she could without touching it. Something vaguely cradle-like stood against the far wall. Between it and the door was another huddled form. The brat must be in the cradle, she thought, but what had her Master done? 

As she peered into the room, she could hear noises outside. Unless she wanted to duel whatever pathetic thing had come to see what had happened to the Potters, she’d need to quickly finish her investigation and leave. 

Casting a shielding charm on herself, she stepped through door. As she passed through it, a wave of something painful engulfed her, unfazed by her shield. Her hair stood on end, and her magic screamed, like a living thing. 

Stumbling forward, she fell to her knees in front of the huddled form. The faint iron smell of blood, almost overpowered by the smell of burnt flesh, flooded her nostrils. The form shivered, like some dying animal. Reaching out, she touched it, pushing the dark red hair away from its face. 

"Where is my Master," Bellatrix demanded, looking around the room, obviously the brat’s nursery. He wouldn’t have gone if the Potter bitch was still alive. She looked behind herself at the door. The wall on either side was charred, as if a large flame had been pointed at it. She followed it up to the ceiling. The flame had burned through the ceiling and she could see the moon through the hole. 

Bellatrix turned back to the Potter bitch and poked her with her wand. Her cloudy green eyes stared up at Bellatrix. She struggled to speak. Bellatrix leaned forward to catch her words. 

"Gone," Potter said, her voice barely audible. 

"Gone where?" Bellatrix said, raising her wand threateningly. 

"Take her. Go!" Potter said, ignoring her question. "Yours now," she gasped. "Protector. Go!" 

As she breathed out the words, Bellatrix felt another wave of something go through her, compelling her to obey. She tried to shake it off but something bound her to it. She raised her wand again and attempted to curse Potter. 

But the other woman now stared blankly up at her. Gone to wherever dead dirty muggles went. Cursing all muggles, Bellatrix struggled back to her feet. Looking towards the crib in the corner, she detected a faint green glow. Forcing her feet forward, she found herself staring down at a silently crying baby behind a green tinged shield of some sort. 

It looked like the shield had touched it at some point, leaving a burn mark on the brat’s forehead. Her Master must have tried to kill the brat after dealing with its mother, she thought, though how this shield had protected it was a mystery. 

Staring down, she felt herself compelled to reach through the shield and grab the brat. As soon as she touched it, there was an audible pop and the shield disappeared, leaving her with a smelly, loudly crying brat. Reaching down to pick it up, intending to silence it before it drew the attention of whatever was outside, her wand hand brushed against a small amulet pinned to the brat’s clothes. 

In the brief second before blackness overcame her, Bellatrix felt the distinctive rush of portkey magic, pulling her away to somewhere outside of her control. 

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not an overly paranoid wizard. But he was cautious. When the alarms on the Potter cottage started wailing in his office he silenced them and quickly apparated to the edge of Godric’s Hollow. The Potter cottage, home to generations of Potter squibs, was at the end of a quiet street in the ancient Wizarding community. 

Staring up at the giant green Dark Mark floating tauntingly above the cottage, he was horrified to see that the Fidelius he’d applied to it himself was damaged and just barely holding. Quickly applying a diagnostic charm, it was clear someone had been tampering with the Fidelius, though he couldn’t determine what had been done to it. But the tampering had weakened it enough that it wouldn’t last much longer. 

Grimacing, he stepped through the shattered door, feeling the faint traces of Riddle’s work. Looking down the hall, he saw the body of James Potter. Stepping up to him, he again waved his wand. 

"Priori Incantatem," he said. James’ wand briefly glowed revealing he’d barely put up a fight, his last spell being Protego, before Riddle’s Avada Kedavra had killed him. He shook his head sadly. He’d warned all of the Order to not attempt to engage Riddle in a duel. As skilled as some of them were, none could stand against the so called Dark Lord. 

Looking up the steps, he sighed, afraid of what he’d see. He slowly went up the stairs, alert for any traps Riddle may have placed there. In the back of his mind he caught the faint whisper of another wizard’s magic, besides the Potters and Riddle, but he couldn’t determine who it could be. It could be one of Riddle’s crowd or another Order member on a previous visit. 

Walking down the hall, it was obvious from the shattered doors that someone with more power than finesse had recently been in the cottage. Someone trained to hide their magical identity. Riddle must have been accompanied by one of his Death Eaters he concluded, though who was still a mystery. 

Reaching the nursery, he could feel a great work had been attempted but it wasn’t clear if it had succeeded. Lily Potter lay in the middle of the room, staring sightlessly towards the door. Turning, he could see that something had burned hotly, charring the wall, and burning through the ceiling, somehow without setting fire to the rest of the cottage. 

Using a diagnostic charm he’d first learned during his brief infatuation with Grindelwald, he frowned. The unrecognizable runes glowed brightly, almost triumphantly, in the air. Whatever had triggered them, it had been fatal to at least one wizard. Hopefully Riddle, but more likely whomever had accompanied him. 

Though how the survivors of the runic shield’s destruction had gotten past the anti-apparition wards he’d placed on the cottage was a mystery. 

Dumbledore turned his attention towards the crib, and one of the reasons he’d placed protection on both the Potters and Longbottoms following the prophecy being revealed. Riddle would not have shown any mercy to any potential threat. And from the looks of it, from the charred blankets and faint green glow, something unexpected had happened. 

Looking down into the empty crib, he scratched his chin. Without knowing what had happened to Riddle and the Potter child, and no witnesses, his options were limited. He would have to bring in the Ministry, much as he disliked to involve them in Order business. Perhaps the Unspeakables would be able to find answers to his questions. 

* * *

Even as Dumbledore and the Order increased the protective wards around the place they’d hidden the Longbottoms, the news that the self described Dark Lord, Voldemort, had attacked the Potters and had been defeated spread across wizarding Britain. Though the Unspeakables refused to detail how this had happened, whispered rumors claimed it had occurred when he’d attempted to kill the Potter child, who was now missing, and presumed murdered by Death Eaters afterward. 

Dumbledore didn’t discourage this belief. The Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries claimed Riddle was no longer on this plain of existence. Which was not exactly the same thing as being dead. He did not believe the conditions of the prophecy had been completed, so Riddle was likely to return at some future date to fulfill them. 

In the meantime, the Order assisted the Ministry in hunting down the leaderless Death Eaters. Ministry aurors had already apprehended Sirius Black, after he’d killed Peter Pettigrew and some muggles, and had thrown him into Azkaban. And with Voldemort no longer to be feared, other members of Riddle’s inner circle were also in the process of being rounded up. 

A number of them had been captured when they’d attacked the Longbottom hiding place the week after the Potters died, and were awaiting trial, though one of Riddle’s most notorious disciples, Bellatrix Lestrange hadn’t been found and had not been seen since before the attack on the Potters. 

Dumbledore was concerned with her disappearance, though given her known instability as one of the Noble House of Black, as demonstrated by Sirius Black betraying his childhood friends, it was more for the chaos she could cause in pursuing revenge than bringing the Death Eaters together under a new leader. 

* * *

And over time the missing Potter child would become a legend. Part of the same mystery of the ultimate fate of Voldemort, only briefly remembered every Halloween as the sacrifice of the Potters was memorialized. And the subject of conspiracy theories whispered late at night in the Leaky Caldron and elsewhere. 

Dumbledore encouraged the rumors that somewhere out there the child was being trained to face the dark wizard that had murdered its parents. It might even be true, he supposed. 

The Potter properties had not passed to any other members of the family, however distant, and although the child’s name was not yet recorded in the Hogwarts Book of Admittance, the goblins refused Ministry access to the Potter lands and family vaults with a possible member still living. 

But someday the child would reappear and he did not doubt he would again have access to the Potter vaults to fund the Order. Some members of the Order had contributed more than others, and they were feeling the distinct lack of Potter and Black funds. 

Until then, he would pursue other ways to find Riddle and prevent his resurgence. And soon the Longbottom child would be under his influence.


	2. The Evil Nursemaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some exposition and world building. And someone leaves some important facts out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer Update:** St. Trinian's School was created by Ronald Searle. Not sure who owns the rights now. St. Trinians and all who sail with her belong to others, not me.
> 
> **Author Groveling**: Has it really been almost a year since I posted the first chapter? Apologies. Many! Hadn't realized it was that long ago. I'll try to update more frequently in the future, if humanly possible.
> 
> **Spoilers:** None. Set in the continuity of the 2007 St. Trinian's movie but but several decades earlier - pre-movie. But obviously AU, because Magic! The Rupert Everett headmistress Camilla Fritton, not the Alistair Sim headmistress Millicent Fritton. They may be related. Time will tell.  
**Word Count:** 5,025  


Lily stared down at her crying daughter, unable to touch her or provide any comfort. Time moved differently in this place. Or possibly the way she perceived it since dying was different. She couldn't remember the exact point when she'd died. Riddle had appeared, and there'd been pain, and an explosion, and she remembered saying the trigger phrase for the guardian runes to someone, and then nothing for almost an eternity before appearing here, with Harriet.

The runes must have worked, at least enough to save Harriet from Riddle. Being pulled here as a ghost must have been a side effect of the ancient runes. But what had happened to her guardian? The goblins had assured her that her runes would work, that Harriet and her designated guardian would be taken to the safe house in another dimension she'd convinced James to purchase.

He'd been skeptical, but willing to take a chance that other dimensions existed, even if he'd dismissed most of it as muggle craziness until she'd found a brief mention in an ancient Potter grimoire of a journey to a land that was almost the same but not quite, and a supposed conversation with the Goblin King.

And now she was here, in the Dowager house of an old wizarding estate that had belonged to a distant Evans ancestor. She'd discovered quite by accident, due to a goblin inheritance test, that her great grandmother had been a squib, and had been the last of her family, the Frittons, but in this other dimension they had been magical until the magical line had been wiped out in the war with Grindelwald, leaving squib descendants, who couldn't access it because only someone with the family magic could enter it.

The Potters of this world, on the other hand, had died out centuries ago, during a dragon pox epidemic, leaving no descendants and a small empty vault, and no property to claim.

The goblins had been willing to purchase and renovate the house for them, charging a hefty finders fee, using a local agent, and an unspecified favor for the Goblin King when Harriet reached adulthood. The goblins had then opened both the local Fritton and Potter vaults for them to move the remaining Potter accounts to when the runes protecting their daughter were triggered.

She'd briefly met the local family representative, though she hadn't told her she was from a different dimension. It felt ghoulish but she knew she was lucky that her parents, and Petunia, in this dimension had died years ago. A little goblin magic had given her and Harriet a paper trail that should withstand any investigation.

She could only hope that the goblin's agent had followed through with the rest of their plans. They hadn't been very detailed, especially regarding Harriet's new guardian. As a Fritton, Harriet was guaranteed a place in the family school, but would need somewhere to learn how to use her magic. And access to the family vaults.

Lily shook herself. There would be plenty of time later to deal with that. She needed to find Harriet's new guardian and get them to check on her before she became ill. Turning, she floated out of Harriet's room, looking for signs of other life. The Dowager House wasn't very large, the Frittons had never been very rich, most of their wealth going into the family manor.

There was a large lump on the floor in the main room. A lump wearing what looked suspiciously like the uniform of one of Riddle's minions. With tangled black hair.

This was not good, Lily thought, dismayed. The guardian runes should not have worked with anyone associated with Riddle. What had she done? How was she going to fix this in her current state of being? Ghosts without a strong connection to the living faded eventually away. She could have years or only days.

* * *

It was a combination of a crying brat and the pull of her Mark that dragged Bellatrix to consciousness. Ignoring her Master's call was not something one did for long and survived. Not even one of his favored lieutenants like her could do so.

Her head pounding, she forced her eyes open, finding herself staring down at a wood floor. Gripping her aching arm with her other hand, Bellatrix rolled over onto her back, and stared up at an unfamiliar, high white painted ceiling.

"Shut up!" she shouted. The wailing stopped for a few seconds before resuming. The pull on her Mark died down briefly before returning, feeling more like needles relentlessly stabbing her arm than the long familiar burning feeling.

Raising her arms to her face, she pulled back her sleeve to look at the Mark. She stared at it in disbelief, ignoring the pain in her surprise. She cautiously poked it. It didn't change. Where the Dark Mark had been was now something very different. A tattoo of a strange eye, the color of blood, had replaced the Dark Mark.

"No! No! No!" Bellatrix screeched, rubbing and digging at the tattoo, drawing real blood in her panic. "Master! It wasn't me! I have not forsaken you!" she shouted at the ceiling.

She watched in horror, when she paused for a second, as the scratches and blood disappeared, leaving a pristine tattoo once again on her arm. She attacked it again and again, leaving her arm ragged and sore, only to have it heal every time.

Exhausted by her continued failure, she eventually gave up, sobbing into her hands. In the background she could faintly hear the occasional companion sob and whimper of a baby. After several long minutes, she sat up, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She no longer had a visible connection to her Master. Searching her mind, she could also no longer find that spot in her head that had always led to his comforting presence.

She wasn't sure what to do, for the first time in years. Her Master would never believe she hadn't found a way to remove the Mark herself. She couldn't go to him and ask for it back. She may gladly worship at his feet, but she wasn't suicidal. She'd been exiled from the world she'd fought to create. A world where pure blooded wizards would rule over muggles and muggle lovers.

But she was still a Black. Marrying a Lestrange at her Master's orders after Hogwarts didn't change that important fact. And Blacks never gave up, never admitted defeat. If she couldn't return to her Master, she would go her own way and rise above everyone in her path. She just needed to do it without him noticing.

And she'd done enough laying there on the cold floor, she decided. If she was going to forge her own path to greatness, there was no time to feel sorry for herself. Pulling down her sleeve to hide her shameful tattoo, she gathered herself and stood, looking around. Searching for her wand, which wasn't in her sheath like it should be.

She wasn't defenseless without it, having some small skill with wand-less magic, but she could feel a small bit of panic at its lack. She needed to find it.

Slowly turning, she found she was standing in the middle of a large square room, with a wooden floor, and that white painted ceiling. One wall was filled with bookshelves tightly packed with books. Directly across from it was a row of tall windows covered in dark curtains. One of the other walls had a large doorway in the center of it leading to a darkened hallway. The opposite wall also had a doorway off to one side and was where the crying was coming from.

Curious, she moved to that door and looked in. It was a short hallway with three doors. The door directly to her left was open and she could see that it was a child's room, with magical creatures painted on the pink walls. Opposite the door was a window and to the right side was a crib. A bureau, small table, and rocking chair completed the room's furnishing.

Stepping into the room she cautiously walked up to the crib. Grimacing, she looked down into it. It was the Potter brat, staring up at her and whimpering.

"You?" Bellatrix said, frowning down at the brat. "Don't look at me like that. I don't know what is happening either." Shaking her head she left the room and the crying brat and continued exploring.

The room across from the brat's room was a large bedroom with an adult sized four poster bed. A large empty closet lined one wall and against the wall between it and a large window was a large vanity. The window looked out onto a dark landscape. Bellatrix could feel the faint tingle of magic when she touched it, but without her wand it didn't respond to her. On one wall was an unmoving portrait of all three Potters.

Bellatrix grimaced. She'd obviously been transported by PortKey, along with the brat, to some hiding place the Potters had prepared, though why they hadn't run to it as soon as her Master visited their cottage was a mystery she had no desire to unravel.

The final room was a modestly sized muggle style bathroom. Obviously that Potter bitch wasn't aware of the necessities a Black expected in such a room. For one thing, the tub was barely big enough to drown the brat in. She'd had a bigger one in Slytherin her first year at Hogwarts.

She had no plans to stay. As soon as she found her wand she was leaving this place and the brat behind. But it definitely could do with some improvements to make it more suitable for a person of her bloodline.

Returning to the large room, Bellatrix looked out the windows but saw the same thing she'd seen in the other windows. Darkness. She suspected she was in the middle of a wooded area but had not way to know for sure until the sun came up or she found a door leading outside.

Going to the other doorway, she found another much longer dimly lit hallway. At the far end was a large door that looked like an entryway. Along the hallway were several closed doors at even intervals. Ignoring the other doors she hurried to the end of the hall. The walls were bare the entire way, not even spots where things used to be.

Reaching the door, Bellatrix examined it carefully for any traps, before attempting to open it. The doorknob refused to turn. She tried one of the few spells she could do wandlessly.

"Alohomora," Bellatrix said, with a flick of her fingers, but nothing happened. She kicked the door in frustration. Her foot didn't even make a mark. Scowling, she turned around and walked back down the hall trying the other doors.

One of the rooms contained large objects she didn't recognize and a sink. It also smelled. Another room had a large desk and empty shelves, an office waiting to be occupied. The final room was a large kitchen, full of cabinets and counters and muggle looking things. It also had a door that opened to reveal a large closet full of empty shelves.

"An empty hideout," Bellatrix said. "Why am I here? So I can starve? So I can kill the brat and then myself?" The Potters couldn't possible have intended to send their brat to an empty hideout with one of their enemies to die, she thought. There must be a reason for it all.

Looking back into the empty office, Bellatrix noticed a faint glow coming from an object on the desk. She cautiously approached it, her body tense. There had been no traps so far but that didn't mean there wouldn't be any.

On the desk was a large glowing book, something that wouldn't be out of place in the Black archives, buried deep in a place even she wouldn't give her Master access to, if he knew they existed.

The glow got brighter as she got closer. Resisting the urge to touch it, Bellatrix stepped around the desk and looked down at the book. The cover looked like dragon hide. In the middle, etched in gold, was the symbol on her arm. She rolled up her sleeve and compared them. Other than the color, they were the same, as if written by the same hand.

"Well, someone was feeling clever," she said. "Open now? Or wait? Take it with me?" But first she had to touch it.

While she stared down at it, going through her limited repertoire of wandless spells for one that could open it without touching it, she again felt a sharp prickling on her arm, centered on the tattoo.

Compared to the Mark, it was just a tickle, so she ignored it. Looking around the room, she couldn't see anything to poke the book with and trigger any traps. But she was faster than any trap that Potter bitch could come up with, she thought smugly and put her hand right on the eye of the book.

There was a blinding white flash, and a feeling like the very first seconds of a Cruciatus before every nerve started screaming centered on that tattoo. Bellatrix stumbled back against the wall, gripping her arm. She looked at the tattoo. It had changed color from red to a faint reddish gold.

"Enough with the parlor tricks," she said angrily, pulling herself together. She leaned over and stared down at the book again. It was no longer glowing. Reaching down, she flipped it open. The first page was blank except for that symbol in the center with a row of unfamiliar runes below it. When she touched the runes, they changed to recognizable words.

"What does that mean?" Bellatrix said, puzzled. "What is The Book of the Guardian?"

Turning the page, she watched as handwritten words in an elegant script appeared.

She read it silently to herself, to avoid any ward triggers.

Welcome Guardian. You have been chosen to protect and raise the last scion of this Noble House. You have proven worthy of this honor, and have been provided with the necessary tools and abilities to achieve the aims set forth in this document.

"What?" Bellatrix said. "What does this mean? Guardian? Noble House? The Potters aren't a Noble House. They're muggle lovers. I want no part of this nonsense."

She slammed the book shut and picked it up, prepared to throw it into the hall. Underneath was a small pile of loose paper, quickly written with the occasional blot of ink. Curious, Bellatrix picked them up, dropping the book back on the desk in the process.

They appeared to describe what had led to this Guardian protector nonsense.

_Guardian_

_This ward bond is something I do as a last resort to protect Harriet and secure her a future away from this unwinnable war. James has agreed to this reluctantly, but we do not trust Dumbledore to do what is best for our daughter. We have no wish for her to become a pawn in one of his games 'for the greater good' or to betray all that we stand for._

_To protect her, we will select someone who shares a magical bloodline with her to be her protector and guardian. If all goes well, they will put her interests and survival above all others. Of our trusted friends, only Sirius will be acceptable to the Ancient magics, though any of the Blacks who are very distant cousins through the Peverell line would qualify._

_I discovered this protector bond in an ancient scroll in the Potter mansion. Before there were the 28, before Hogwarts, the Potters were Master runesmiths who traveled extensively. It appears to have been discovered in a temple dedicated to the Egyptian goddess Isis. The scroll describes how to use runes to protect and to bond an orphan child with a relative as their protector._

_It has taken months to decipher the scroll and discover the meaning of the runes. Even now I suspect that there are subtle nuances to this bond that escape me, for which James was not helpful, and we could not consult with any other Order members lest they tell Dumbledore our plans._

_The bond appears to resemble a soul bond, but much of the research into soul bonds is considered restricted so while there may be similar facets, the only information on soul bonds available does not give much detail. I am speculating that this guardian bond may work best with individuals with an affinity for a soulmate bond, but none of the materials I was able to find regarding soul bonds contained spells, potions, or runes to detect soul bonds. It may be that soul bonds have been 'bred out' of wizarding kind._

"Soul magic is one of those dark magics the Ministry wants us to forget," Bellatrix said, pausing in her reading. "Is that what you are?" She poked her new tattoo. "A soul bond with the brat?" She returned to the paper.

_The bond should let you the guardian know when Harriet is unhappy, hungry, scared, and in danger. I do not know what the strength of the bond will be. It may cause crippling pain or just be a faint tickle. If it causes pain, I profusely apologize._

"You better," Bellatrix said. "If your brat has a tantrum and it kills me, I will find you wherever you are and kill you again."

_There is some speculation that Voldemort shares a similar bond with his Death Eaters, but we can't confirm it. But this guardian bond would likely override whatever dark magic he used to bond his Death Eaters to his cause. Though we would not appoint a Death Eater as Harriet's guardian so it is purely academic._

"No, it's not," Bellatrix said, angrily throwing down the papers. Standing she stomped out of the room and down the hall. Passing through the room she continued towards the nursery.

"Look what your bitch of a mother has done to me!" Bellatrix shouted, leaning down into the crib to glare at a sleeping Harriet. "She's made me your slave!"

Harriet woke up, and started crying. This time Bellatrix knew what was making her tattoo ache. Looking at it, she couldn't see any difference.

"Don't expect any sympathy from me, brat," Bellatrix said. Turning, she stormed back out of the nursery and down to the office. "And I don't take care of crying brats!" She shouted into the hall.

Shoving the book to the side, she grabbed the papers again and started rereading them.

_I know that Sirius is not the best choice for a nurturing guardian for Harriet, but who else do we have? Molly Weasley? Yes, she is a mother, but she is deep in Dumbledore's pocket. She wouldn't question him turning our Harriet into a sacrifice or a little soldier. Or similar unhealthy nonsense._

_So Guardian, if I may call you that, here is how it will work. I've made the rules as simple as possible. When Harriet is hungry, you'll be hungry. So, feed her when you feel ready to eat. She eats often now but soon she'll be able to handle a normal schedule. She'll let you know when she needs to be changed. Her diapers are self cleaning but the cleaning charm won't last more than a week before needing to be renewed, so you might want to learn it. There's a book of common child rearing spells in the library._

_Keep Harriet entertained. Talk to her. Read to her. Show her things. The more you interact with her the better she will grow as a person. There are several muggle books on raising children. They won't help if she starts showing magic, but they are generally sound otherwise. Wizards seem to prefer that house-elves raise their children until they can talk in complete sentences. The house you have been sent to is warded against elf magic. Harriet will learn from you._

_If you do not feel up to teaching Harriet about her culture there are books on wizarding culture in the library. We just ask that you not turn her into a pure blood bigot. If you do, I will haunt you!_

_The house is warded against anyone coming or going. For the first year it will be just the two of you. After that you are free to explore the neighborhood. Some of it may look familiar but this world is different. That may seem strange but I have my reasons, not the least of which it will give you time to get used to your role in Harriet's life and give her time to grow in a safe place._

Bellatrix threw down the papers again in disgust. "Not just a slave but a prisoner! What gave you the right! No brat is that important. And what do you mean 'this world'?" She grabbed the papers again.

_I'm sure you're asking where are you, now. Simple. The house is the Dowager house on the grounds of the old Fritton estate which was turned into a girls boarding school after the last magical Fritton passed away._

_The headmistress, my great aunt Camilla, is a squib and is aware of the presence of the house and our plans, though it is protected by a fidelius and anti-muggle charms and she cannot enter. No one who is not a Fritton descendant can see it. When Harriet starts school the fidelius will unlock to allow others to see it._

_All female Fritton descendants, such as Harriet, are automatically accepted into the school. If she is not accepted into a magical school, she will go to St. Trinian's as did my mother and sister Petunia. We would rather she go there and be home tutored in magic than be subjected to Dumbledore's scheming._

Bellatrix turned the papers over. They seemed to be covered in calculations and runes. "And what about food?" She said. "Did you forget that your prisoners needed to eat?"

There was a slight chill in the room. Bellatrix looked up to see the grimacing ghost of Lily Potter.

"A little early for a haunting, Potter," Bellatrix said. "Why are you here? To gloat?"

"You were not my first pick, Lestrange," the ghost said. "And this place is not quite as ready as we'd planned it to be."

"So, you kidnapped me to babysit your brat for the next few years, but you forgot to finish setting things up?" Bellatrix said. "Amateurs! You people are amateurs!"

"We've done our best," she said. "Harriet is safe. You are free from other entanglements."

"Free? I was happy fighting beside my Lord," Bellatrix said. "Now I'm a slave at the whim of a brat."

"It doesn't quite work that way," Lily protested. "You're now her magical guardian. The closest she'll have to a parent. This is your home also until she becomes an adult and can inherit the Potter estates."

"And you wanted Sirius Black to raise her? Obviously there's a strain of insanity in the Potters," Bellatrix said. "That man couldn't raise a house elf, let alone a baby. What am I saying? I can't raise a baby either!"

"The Guardian bond would not have worked if you were incapable of raising Harriet," Lily said. "It'll be good for you. A child to raise without the hard part. And anything you need to know is in the library."

"Are you going to pop in and give useless advice often," Bellatrix asked. "Or gloat?"

"The runes that created the Guardian bond only allow me to appear to you, until she becomes an adult," Lily said. "I can watch but Harriet cannot see me."

"Pity," Bellatrix said, with a smirk. Her arm started to ache again. "And what about this!" she growled, waving her arm with her new tattoo. "It's annoying."

"Harriet is hungry. Feed her."

Bellatrix stared at her angrily. "We have no food! Do we starve?"

"Several of the local businesses deliver to magical households," Lily said. "Instructions can be found in the library."

"Is there anything not in your precious library?" Bellatrix asked.

"Your wand," Lily said.

"Where is it?" Bellatrix said, stepping through the ghost, and out into the hall, walking towards the library.

"You seem to have a small talent for wandless magic, and you shouldn't need for anything complicated," Lily said.

"In the library?" Bellatrix said, with a growl. "Where is my wand!"

"It will appear when you are ready for it," Lily said. "Information about the Guardian bond is in the book. Remember! None of that pure blood nonsense or I will show you what a real haunting is like." With that, she disappeared.

"Good riddance," Bellatrix said. "It's in the library! She could have just left a note." She stomped over to the shelves and looked at the titles, moving her hand above their spines for anything that reeked of Potter magic.

She stopped at a slim volume that said 'Shopping'. Flipping it open revealed a short list of local stores she could order from:

In an upper corner was a large number with the label 'Account Balance'

"Not much choice," Bellatrix mumbled, reading the ordering instructions. She pressed the line for the first store and the book opened to a page full of pictures for different kind of food. "I'm not a house elf!" She shouted. "What does a Potter brat eat?" Several items labeled 'baby food' glowed with a faint green light.

* * *

A loud bell sounded in Miss Fritton's office late at night, startling her. The last time it had rung had been when one of her distant Evans grand-nieces, the magical one, had visited. It apparently indicated when a magical family member had entered the estate.

When no one immediately appeared, she looked out of her office window for a moment before going back to her letters to Old Girls. They really needed to recruit some rich girls for the spring term. Keeping the school open was always a juggling act. The Fritton fortune had run out years ago and she couldn't rely on the recent sale of the useless Dowager House. She'd have access only to a portion of the sale price every year if she wanted to avoid any taxes.

"Aunt Camilla," a faint voice said, several hours later.

"You're looking a bit see through today, Lily," Camilla said, frowning at the pale figure standing in front of her desk.

"Yes," Lily said, grimacing. "James and I died."

"Oh dear," Camilla said, raising an eyebrow. "And little Harriet?"

"She's in the Dowager House with her guardian," Lily said.

"And the family bell?" Camilla said.

"The bell was for her," Lily said. "She'll inherit all family magical properties when she is old enough. It shouldn't ring again until sh becomes an adult."

"And St. Trinian's?" Camilla asked.

"As we discussed," Lily said. "With the exception of the Dowager House, and the Family library, the school will continue to have a place here as long as a Fritton is headmistress or on staff. It's in my will. Harriet is not going to kick you out."

"That's a relief," Camilla said. "And what of the other things?"

"I don't know what is going to happen with the will," Lily said. "But no one can touch Harriet's inheritance as long as she's alive. We made arrangements with Gringotts, in case of our deaths, to cover all living expenses for Harriet and her guardian that will continue until she is of age and inherits the Potter vaults and properties. This includes any schooling."

"She's a Fritton," Camilla said. "She's going here."

"She'll need a magical education," Lily said. "Unless you start hiring magically talented teachers, and the Ministry of Magic certifies you to teach magical students, that can't happen here."

"We'll work something out," Camilla said, nodded.

"You forget my mother went to school at St. Trinian's," Lily said. "I'm not blind to how things work here."

"I suppose not," Camilla said, grimacing.

"You'll need to speak with our account manager at Gringotts," Lily said. "There will be some funds made available for upkeep of the grounds and manor in addition to our agreed payments for the Dowager House, but it won't be enough to run the school. Most of the Potter wealth was in property that cannot be sold as inaccessible until Harriet is an adult."

"And how will I contact this person?" Camilla said.

"I'm working on it," Lily said. "Being a ghost is very limiting."

"What of this guardian?" Camilla said.

"There wasn't much choice given the suddenness," Lily said. "She's a distant relative of the Potters who happened to be there when we died."

"She didn't murder you?" Camilla said, aghast.

"No, but she was one of his more enthusiastic minions," Lily said. "But no longer. The guardianship ritual fixed that. Though I wouldn't recommend trying to meet her just yet. She can't hurt Harriet but she wasn't happy with me."

"Is she safe to have around the girls?" Camilla said.

"Yes," Lily said. "Mostly. She'll likely keep to herself."

"Does anyone know that she and Harriet are here?" Camilla said.

"No," Lily said. "Only you and I, and Gringotts, and they won't tell anyone."

Camilla nodded. "And will you be staying here?" She asked.

"Not visibly," Lily said. "I'll try to keep an eye on Harriet, but only you and Harriet's guardian can see me. It just takes too much energy to manifest here. There hasn't been a magical Fritton in residence in a long time so there isn't much for me to drawn on."

"So, offering you a teaching position would not work?" Camilla said. "We could use a new Chemistry teacher. The girls weren't pleased with the last one."

"Sorry, no," Lily said.

"Just a thought," Camilla said, sighing.

"I'll be back after I've discussed things with the bank," Lily said.

Camilla stared at the now empty spot for several minutes, before shaking her head and returning to the list of prospective rich students.


End file.
